


Simple Things

by callay



Category: Kings (TV 2009)
Genre: Angst, Background Characters Deserve Love Too, Blow Jobs, M/M, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack, imprisoned with Lucinda, tries to get what he needs from Stuart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Things

**Author's Note:**

> This definitely wouldn't exist without [teawithmrpond](http://teawithmrpond.tumblr.com) and everyone else who was foolish enough to enable my Stu fixation on Tumblr!
> 
> This is basically in the same universe as [my other Stuart/Jack fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2313806), but set post-series. Jack has been imprisoned with Lucinda Wolfson until they produce an heir. Stuart takes on a job as his guard and manages to sneak in to see him.

The closet door shuts behind Stu, and they’re alone. Jack surges in and grabs Stu’s lapels, wants to reach up and kiss him – but at the last second he stops, because talking to Stu is more urgent even than the desire pounding under his skin.

“What’s the plan?” he asks, looking up into Stu’s serious face.

“What plan, sir?”

“To get me out of here,” hisses Jack, twisting his hands in Stu’s jacket.

“You know I can’t do that.”

He’s expecting the response, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like a blow to the stomach. He wants to shake Stu, wipe the carefully neutral expression off his face. He settles for spitting, “Then why did you even come here?”

Stu just looks at him for a second, and Jack knows he’s supposed to understand that Stu’s just there to see him, to comfort him, to screw him maybe, but Jack doesn’t want to understand that.

All that used to be enough. Stu used to be – _simple_. An easy way to forget about everything that sucked in Jack’s life. But Jack doesn’t know if even Stu can make him forget his current situation.

Stu reaches for him, tries to grab his arm and pull him in. Jack resists at first, still glaring, but eventually Stu catches him and pulls him close, links his hands behind Jack’s back and looks him in the eye. Stu’s back is against the door and he’s slid down enough that they’re face-to-face. “What can I do for you?” he asks gently.

_You can pick me up and carry me out of here._

_You can fuck me up against the wall until I forget my own name._

_You can march into the council room and shoot my father._

But Jack doesn’t say any of that. There’s no point. Instead, he drops to his knees in front of Stu. He hears Stu’s intake of breath, because Jack has never blown him. With the exception of Joseph, Jack always made it a rule not to get on his knees for anyone. It’s not dignified for a prince.

_Fuck that_ , thinks Jack savagely. He might as well be as dirty as his father thinks he is. Might as well get something hard and masculine in his mouth to think about later. He leans in to nuzzle at Stu’s slacks, feels the hard outline of Stu’s cock and thrills at it.

“Sir –“

“I’m pretty sure you don’t have to call me ‘sir’ anymore, Stu,” says Jack against the curve of Stu’s cock. “I’m a prisoner, not a prince.”

“You’re still a prince,” says Stu, and that’s factually accurate – if Silas actually disowned him, there’d be no point to the whole royal baby thing – but Stu says it like there’s a “to me” at the end, not sappily but matter-of-factly.

“Why thank you, Stu,” says Jack, looking up and smirking at him. Stu smiles back, the little smile he seems to save just for Jack, and this is good.

It’s not that he can be himself with Stu, not quite, even though a desperately lonely part of him wishes he could. But it’s actually easier like this, to keep the edge of flirtation between them, keep playing the teasing prince seducing the devoted bodyguard. It’s simple.

Right now, Jack really needs simple.

He reaches for Stu, traces the shape of his cock with his hand. He knows it well, but he’s never had his mouth on it, and the thought is enough to make his mouth water and his breath come fast against the fabric of Stu’s pants.

Stu’s a little breathless too when he asks, “Can’t I do something for you first, sir?”

Jack can’t explain how much he doesn’t want that, how afraid he is that he’ll only think of _her_ , trying so hard with her small, nervous mouth. He pushes the thought away with a shake of his head. “Don’t you want this?” he asks, feigning insult as he slides his hands up to Stu’s belt and works it open.

“Yes,” answers Stu urgently. “I just –“

“This is what I want,” says Jack forcefully, meeting Stu’s eyes, and Stu nods and doesn’t say anything more. Maybe he’s just distracted, because at that moment Jack gets his fly down and wraps a hand around his cock.

It’s familiar in a way that fills Jack with memories of better times, what feels like a different world – the two of them kissing and rutting together, that first time in Jack’s apartment, and then later, stroking each other in the darkness of an unused state room. Later still, Stu kneeling between Jack’s legs in the back of the car, shuddering as Jack runs a slick hand over him.

But Jack doesn’t want to think about any of that now, not when he has Stu’s cock right here in front of him, twitching a little in his hand. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jack presses his face against Stu. There’s a fierce need to it, the way he nuzzles into the curling blond hair, turns his head to kiss open-mouthed along the shaft. Stu is breathing hard above him but doesn’t say anything as Jack presses close, feeling Stu’s cock against his face, skin silky-soft around an iron core.

Jack moves down, mouthing at Stu’s balls, and then Stu lets out a little sound that’s mostly surprise. Jack tastes Stu’s skin, breathes in the smell of him. Stu’s neck always tastes clean, of soap, but down here is all sweat and musk, and Jack relishes it.

Jack’s trying desperately to fix everything in his memory – the taste and feel and smell of Stu, the shaky sound of his breath, the way his legs tremble under Jack’s hands when Jack tongues at him. He wants to remember everything, the smallest of details, so he can call them all up later.

Eventually Jack moves back up, licking a wet stripe up Stu’s shaft. Finally he catches the tip in his mouth. He was planning to take his time here, memorize the shape of it with his tongue, but the feeling of it sparks a surge of need and he slides greedily down, filling his mouth with Stu’s cock. Stu groans, low, hands fisting at his sides.

Sex is simple. Jack slips easily into the rhythm of it, head moving up and down, sucking, his tongue pressing up against the underside of Stu’s cock. He’d forgotten how intoxicating this is, the thickness and weight of a cock in his mouth, the way it feels sliding through his lips. He can’t get enough. He wants to lose himself in it, but at the same time he also wants to pay close attention, remember every part of it for later.

Stu’s rocking just a little into Jack’s mouth, but it’s obvious he’s trying to control himself, hands clenched into fists. Jack reaches out and grabs one of Stu’s hands, brings it to his own head. Stu makes a noise of protest, like he always does for things like this, but he curls his hand into Jack’s hair anyway.

Stu’s hand on him feels good, but then Stu starts to really move, pushing hard into Jack’s mouth, and that feels _amazing_. And this was always the best thing about Stu, the part when Stu stops protecting him and starts _fucking_ him, rhythm going rough and wild. It’s dizzying to submit, to just take Stu’s thrusts, feel Stu tugging his hair to try to get deeper.

Stu hits the back of Jack’s throat and Jack chokes a little, tears springing to his eyes. He feels Stu start to hesitate so he grabs Stu’s other hand, squeezes. _Come on, come on_. He needs this, needs Stu to fuck him so hard there’s not room for anything else.

Stu seems to get the message and keeps going, panting, hips jerking frantic and forceful. Jack has tears on his cheeks and spit on his chin and there’s nothing in his world but Stu.

Jack wishes he could die, not out of any cowardice or pride this time, but so that his could be his last moment, stretching out into eternity, perfect.

But he doesn’t, because nothing is that easy. Eventually Stu groans something Jack doesn’t catch and yanks him in hard, holds him close as he shudders through climax, squeezing Jack’s hand tightly. Jack swallows the taste of him, strong and salty.

After a while Stu gently pulls Jack off him, lets him go. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says, quietly and earnestly.

Jack doesn’t say anything. He’s slowly coming back to reality, where they are and why.

“Come here,” says Stu, smoothing a hand gently over Jack’s head.

Jack gets up, and Stu pulls him in, hugs him tight. Jack presses his face to Stu’s chest, not caring if he messes up his jacket. He shivers when Stu interlaces their legs, presses a thigh against Jack’s aching cock.

“What should I do?” asks Stu quietly, nudging up against Jack’s cock. Jack responds instinctively, rolling his hips against the warm pressure of Stu’s body. He fantasizes for a moment about Stu’s hand on him, Stu’s mouth even. He’s so far gone that it doesn’t even make him think of _her_ , he just remembers the feeling of Stu’s mouth, warm and sure around him.

There’s a long moment where he almost gives in. But Lucinda’s little calendar has stars drawn in neat marker on this week, and one moment of bliss isn’t worth wasting what could be his ticket out of here. Gritting his teeth, he pulls out of Stu’s arms.

“You’d better leave, Stu,” he says.

Stu looks at him, worried.

Jack wants to smile and tease him, show that he’s fine. But for once he doesn’t know what to say. “Come back soon,” he says, meaning it to come out lighthearted, but his voice sounds flat.

“I’ll try,” says Stu earnestly. Jack turns away, scrubbing a hand over his face, and opens the closet door. Stu has no choice but to straighten his clothes and follow him out.

Lucinda doesn’t look up from the TV. Either she believes Stu was fixing a wobbly shelf or she doesn’t, Jack can’t bring himself to care.

As Stu reaches the door, something makes Jack call out, “Thanks for your help.” Stu looks back, surprised, and Jack hopes that his face is, for once, earnest.

Just because it’s hard to go back to his misery of a life doesn’t mean that wasn’t the best thing to happen to him in weeks. The buzz of arousal in his blood feels great, exciting, an incredible change from the gray despair he’s used to. Most of all, Jack is grateful for the mental images spinning in his head: the feeling of Stu’s cock in his mouth, the taste of his skin, the way he shuddered as he came in Jack’s mouth. 

The memories are bright and clear, so strong that thinking of them sends a wash of need over Jack, almost makes him call Stu back.

But instead he waits until the door closes behind Stu, and then he turns around and walks slowly toward Lucinda.


End file.
